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Lans, do you know how I love you and your big, bulbous chest?
"Ja, I know tanz, and I your glorious luscious locks."

About 5 men are hanging out near a cottage on a lake having a picnic. The Magnarian Verbaende approaches the group, and they look up, obviously worried.
'zose are...'

PICTIANS! ATTACK! -- both sides say this at once, but neither side hears what the other is trying to hear.

The verbaende attacks violently, with lances and handcannons. Magnar is smart enough to kill two birds with one stone. He shoots his dragon at a man, and lances the turkey they were dining on. The rest are slaughtered, and one remains for questioning. By the numbers, Magnar thought.

he held his sabre aloft, and descended his horse.
he cracked his neck as he approached the scum of the land.

he was walking away, with a lance in his thigh.

'Magnar will see you die, one way or another.' he said it coldly, callously, and yet fiery and sincerely. 'magnar.... Magnar of pictia?! of the holy college?! why in Liokiyl have you alligned yourself here?!'

'Alligned? no. I have no allignment, though I SERVE the god king. But Magnar lives for the hunt. Magnar kills his enemies, and fights for his friends. I do not serve tyrants, Vladislavian SCUM.' he spoke it in the low dialect, as one befitting of the undeserved.
the small man with short pants cowered before the mighty one.

'WHERE ARE YOUR LORDS?!'
'WHERE ARE THE MOTHERS OF BASTARDS?! WHERE ARE THE SONS OF KING IAROSLAV?! WHERE ARE THOSE WE SLAUGHTERED AT THE BATTLE OF VLADISGRAD?!'

'oh we're here.' he said, malevolently. his eyes narrowed and wolfish was his nose. 'we're everywhere.'
he pushed a knife into his stomache. Magnar grabbed at the knife, but that was what the bastard wanted. his guts bled out as he attempted to grab it.

he died about a minute later. he screamed. he didn't talk.

'Vladislavian bastards.'

he looked out to his men. 'I demand their suffering.' -- he looked to his second. 'Duncan, son of Tuncan. Send a letter. tell the king and the graf Na'Goithe of what we found. you go, and take a hundred with you.
'The rest of us must hurry back to Schlosske.*'

Indeed. Pin the harpoon on the vladislavian.

*[schloss koenigschwert if it isn't obvious.]
>Vladislavians are to blame for black lotus. it is on the bodies at the cottage.
>They are also to blame for the death of both envoys.
>The Vladislavian scumbags have also infested at least some of the kingdoms.

NOTES
-------------------------
This field records your latest roll at its top.

Modified results that would produce a number less than one display as one.
[/roll]

2x7 + 2x6 = 26 vs. 2x10 + 3*2 = 26// DRAW.
your agents botch the operation. the suspects were spooked, and went underground, evading capture. on the bright side, you are able to get rid of a fair amount of black lotus supply. street costs quadruple within the fortnight. also, a message is delivered to you, from the knights vigalent... [see above post where Magnar the man and a half does what he do.]

"ETHOS-GRAF. MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNAR KNOW YOU LEADING INVESTIGATION ON BLACK LOTUS DRUG. MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNAR FIND BLACK LOTUS BEING SHIPPED BY SCUM OF VLADISLAVIA, FESTERING DUNG-HOLE OF ALL THE WORLD. WHEN ISSAC-GOD-KING DEFEAT VLADISLAVIANS IN GLORIOUS BATTLE, HE PUT ALL HE COULD FIND TO THE SWORD FOR BEING EXTREMELY RUDE, BUT IT SEEM HE NOT THOROUGH ENOUGH. WHEN MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNAR FIND VLADISLAVIAN SCUM, HE REND THEM LIMB FROM LIMB IN GLORIOUS BATTLE, AS TO ALL FILTHY FILTH-SPAWN OF IAROSLAV RUDENESS-MONGER, WRETCHED CREATURE OF DARKNESS, UNRESPECTOR OF TABLE BANNERS AND- [This continues for several paragraphs.]-BY BLOOD OF RAGNAR, SON OF MAGNAR, SIRE OF MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNAR, VLADISLAVIAN SCUM MUST BE CRUSHED. IN THIS WE HAVE COMMON GOAL. MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNAR WILL AID ETHOS-GRAF AND WIPE SCUP-SPAWN OF IAROSLAV FROM FACE OF WORLD.

-MAGNAR, SON OF RAGNARKnight-Captain of the Order of the Beggar-Knights Vigilant."

Vladislav.... Ethos had only heard stories of their barbarism when his father was still leading Airgead. An extinct people, or so he had been told. And now they were waltzing the streets in plain daylight. How could they have been so blind! RAGNAR, son of MAGNAR had done in a single stroke what the Tuatha Danann had failed twice to do. Now it was time to put his faith in Admiral O'Broin again. Whereas Maire was all business, O'Broin was boisterous. He carried extra girth that rolled like the river when he laughed. It was true that the Admiral was no longer fit to serve in a ship, but he knew a ship inside and out. From the first nail to the last, he could build a frigate with his bear hands and still did so judging from the glass bottle ships mounted on his wall. But O'Broin's true talent was his judge of character allowing him to groom the best of the best- the delegator to Maire's micromanager. It was time to put to the test the skills of the trained carpenters Airgead had gathered from among the refugees. Over 3 or 4 beers, Ethos and O'Broin reviewed the strategies they had long since laid out in the case of an invasion into the forested rivers and toasted to the new moon.

NOTES
-------------------------
This field records your latest roll at its top.

Modified results that would produce a number less than one display as one.

Your men have a major break in the case.
2x3 = 6 vs. 2x10+2x5 = 33]
-- you deal 3 damage of your choice to any of their stats. it's not entirely clear what the ramifications for this will be. (you can deal damage to more than one stat.)
Black lotus reserves have gone dry. massive shortage in the immediate term.

Police Quest

"It's those whore-birthed buggers, eh?" Constable Gryf said, perusing the latest reports while rubbing his week-old stubble. In particular, a copy of a letter from Magnar, son of Ragnar lay at the top of the pile, block letters and all. "Hells and bells, what a rat's nest they've uncovered. I think..." He leans his elbow on his desk and looks at his lieutenants knowingly. "It's time to get another piece of the action."

[Report from Admiral O'Broin]
Hoho, they are on their knees now, laddies! Their tiny flotilla wasn't prepared for the strength of our armada. I don't think they realized we were on to them or they wouldn't have had those ridiculous looks on their faces when we cam catapulting off our boats and into their towns. We brought back some fine ciders and confiscated barrels of Black Lotus due for our cities. This is no time to let up. Let's keep on 'em, til we finish what the late god-king started! Tally ho!

(2x6 + 2x8 )vs. 2x10: 28 vs. 20 [police victory]
--> Your men attack in a large band, shoving many literally out of windows whilst at work. those who are found are slaughtered. vladislavia sustains heavy damage, but it's a bloody business. take one sovereignty damage. your people are sickened by the sight of this.

(might + territory) -- Roll(7d10)+0:10,5,10,6,1,2,5,+0Total:39-- 2x10, 2x5 = 30. take 2 damage to might or territory, take 1 damage to the other. Must be land mightmake a defence roll. Choice: for each paired degree of 10 (eg, 10, 20, 30 from double rolls) reduce damage, or inflict damage on the enemy. ((this will likely become a rule as written. I'm working on a combat program.))

It also attacks pictia with its navy, in an attempt to destroy their army in the field

Pictia attempts to defend itself:
(land might + territory)
Roll(8d10)+0:
5,2,1,3,5,10,2,2,+0
Total:30
3x2 = 6, + 2x5 = 16.
The picts are able to fend them off, and are better prepared for an attack next time. The god prince met the gothicans in battle himself. [receives one extra die to defence against gothica next turn or attack.]

Bend til they Break

The dust was visible long before the reformed Khaganate army arrived to the field. Graf von Reinsbach gave a grim smile as he ordered his most experienced ritters to take their places along the wings of his army, kept in reserve until the skittish Pict riders were close enough for their escape to be impossible. This would mean that the hard men of the infantry would take the brunt of the Pictish skirmishers and horse archers, but they and the archers would give as good as they got.

Ritter Forst slammed a fist to his chest as he approached the contemplative and still smiling Graf.

"The men are in position, Lord Marshal. They await your pleasure." Forst's basso rumble sounded like the hand-cannons used in the south to fend off tyrant dragons, and von Reinsbach spared an idle thought wishing he had some men armed with those to take on the Khaganate cavalry before nodding in response.

"Very well." Donning the simple but well-made helmet held under one arm, von Reinsbach kneed his horse forward and towards the disciplined ranks of his guard at the front and centre of his warriors. The smile grew on his face as he stood in his stirrups to survey the too-meager force arrayed before him.

"MEN OF REINERATH! ARE YOU READY TO SPILL PICT BLOOD IN THE NAME OF YOUR KING?"

The roar that answered his question turned his smile lupine and savage.

"ARE YOU READY TO KILL THE BASTARDS THAT SLEW YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY?"

Shouts, cheers, and the stamp of heavily armoured feet echoed across the sparse hillside.

"THEN BY THE GOOD STEEL IN MY HAND AND WITH SUCH MEN BEHIND ME, WE WILL! NOT! LOSE!"

Von Reinsbach raised his lance as high as he could, bellowing out the last few words over the mighty din, before turning back to the guards and Ritter Forst. He caught the eyes of each guard, including one new one - the enthusiastic young knight that had started the march weeks prior with a song and good cheer. The good cheer remained despite the fact that the young knight knew he was replacing a dead member of Reinsbach's guard, and he saluted his lord with a wicked grin and a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes.

Turning away from his guard, he surveyed the Khaganate forces lining the horizon opposite his men.

"We don't need to win. We just need to delay them long enough for the army to get in position. That said, Ritter Forst - I'd prefer them spit on the end of my lance to our men skewered by their arrows. So let's send these horse****ers away with their tails between their legs." He squared his shoulders and raised his lance.